


Dear Claude, F--k You

by Insomnia_Productions



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_Productions/pseuds/Insomnia_Productions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Claude and Sebastian battle for Ciel's soul, Alois uses the free time to compose a letter to his butler.<br/>If he can't have Claude, he can at least guilt-trip him, one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Claude, F--k You

Claude… 

What can you say to the one you loved more than anyone else, whose love was all you ever truly desired? What can you say to the only one you could trust… the one who, when you needed him most, disappeared, only to return and whisper sweet words and take your face in his hands, and then _crushing your fucking skull_?  
  
After careful consideration, I believe I have an answer.  
  
It’s simple, really. Just two words.  
  
You say, “ _F—k. You._ ”  
  
I _loved_ you, Claude, more than I’ve ever loved _anyone_ , more than I loved _Luka_. We had a contract, and as such, I wanted you to care about me. Or at least to pretend to. But you never did, did you? You always made it clear how much you hated me, calling me your meal where Sebastian called Ciel ‘bocchan’. Treating me like the dirt beneath your shoes where Sebastian treated Ciel like royalty.  
  
I never understood it. You are both demons, bound to us by contracts centered around revenge. Why, then, do you act so differently? Why do I see compassion in Sebastian’s eyes, yet only contempt in yours?  
  
For years, I’ve tried to change those eyes. At first, I tried to soften them, tried to see even the smallest gleam of caring. Eventually, I gave up on that, and tried for anger, disgust, irritation, _anything_ but your signature indifference.  
  
But to no avail, of course. Being who you are.  
  
Being who I am.  
  
And then, one day, my wish was granted. For once, those cold golden eyes were warmed. For once, those dark golden eyes were lit with burning fire. But it was not the fire that ravaged my town all those years ago. No, it was the raging flame that devoured Ciel Phantomhive’s mansion on that chilled December night.  
  
I was on the floor, liquid rubies pouring out of the mine in my side, spilling across the ground, lapping against your once-stainless shoes. And yet, your golden orbs only saw Ciel, untainted and unhurt, and Sebastian whisked him away.  
  
I relied on you, Claude, but you left me.  
  
Still, I trusted you,  
  
Still, I had faith in you.  
  
By evening, you had yet to return, so I went to look for you. In the woods, a Reaper came for me, but I could not die. Not until I’d seen you.  
  
Eventually, I could run no more. When the wolf came, I thought I was dead. But then the wolf was gone and you were there, and you held me and told me everything would be all right.  
  
Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ read. I _know_ how the stories go.  
  
You had saved me from the wolf. Now you would take me back home and treat my injuries, and we would carry on as always. And maybe, after I’d come so close to death, you would realize that maybe you do care about me, just a little.  
  
But none of that happened.  
  
Instead, you killed me and trapped my soul in my ring. It was so cold in there, and so empty, nothing but a vast red void. I could hear muted voices coming from somewhere far away—you and Hannah and the Triplets bickering about my prospective fate. But the voices faded in and out, and I could barely make out your words.  
  
I was scared, more scared than I’ve ever been. Scared and cold and yet still I loved you. When Hannah transferred my soul into Ciel’s body, I led you through the maze of my heart. You were doing so well, Claude, and I felt a growing hope that maybe you did care, or had cared, once upon a time.  
  
And then, at last, we reached the final question.  
  
I asked you why you had killed me. I expected you to lie, as you always do. That’s how we are, isn’t it? You tell me lies, blatant lies, and I am happy. But this time, you didn’t lie. You told me you didn’t care about me. You only wanted Ciel’s soul. I was worthless to you.  
  
And it hurt.  
  
It hurt more than anything, more than Luka’s death, more than the old man ever did.  
  
Not that you cared.  
  
But Hannah did. Hannah, within whom resides my beloved brother’s soul. Hannah, who loves Luka as much as I do, who loves me as much as he did. Hannah, who for all these years has been waiting to show me the love I so wanted from you.  
  
So tonight, I have finally done what I should have a long time ago.  
  
I’ve made a contract with Hannah. By the end of the night, she will have my soul, and I will finally be with my little Luka again.  
  
With Luka, and with Hannah—the two people who truly love me.  
  
And I have only one thing left to say to you.  
  
Goodbye, Claude.  
  
Goodbye, and f—k you. 

Signed,  
  
Jim Macken

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really, despise Claude.


End file.
